I smiled at his excitement and leant back against the cabin window. The sun was making its way towards the horizon and it would be another cold night after a day without being able to kill someone other than a few of the zombies.
Still, I thought as I glanced across at Lily and caught her looking back at me. It hadn’t been a bad day.
Chapter 21
By the time we had returned to the apartments we were all hungry and eager to see what Claire could produce with a variety of herbs and spices to cook with. A light drizzle was falling as the light faded and so Lily decided that we would be best served leaving the timber and tools in the boat where it was at least dry.
As it turned out, Claire had been awaiting our return before starting the evening meal anyway in the hopes that we would bring back something.
Disappointed that we didn’t have some more food, she at least seemed cheered to be presented with the small plastic jars of herbs and spices and was soon humming happily as she cooked up some kind of spicy vegetable curry with the last of the tinned produce.
I took the opportunity to take a walk around the grounds while everyone was getting settled.
The barrier that was being erected across the road had stalled with the absence of materials and I wondered if Jason would use his vaunted building knowledge and our newly gathered timber to make a fence of sorts.
In the trees beyond the half started barrier, a few birds had gathered on the branches, their dark feathers making them almost invisible in the growing darkness. Only the rustling of the smaller branches as the birds settled in for the night alerted me to their presence.
It was oddly comforting to know that the birds were still around, flying freely amongst the dead and undead. If nothing else they could be a possible source of food when the zombies had killed off all of the larger animals that they could catch.
When we started pulling fish from the lake that would be a pleasant change and if Jason could actually do as he said and produce some greenhouses that would allow us to start growing some fresh vegetables then we may actually have a chance of survival.
I kicked absently at an empty crisp packet that was caught in the thick grass and weeds beside the road and made a note to speak to Lily about disposing of all our rubbish. In all truth I had no idea what we were currently doing with the waste we produced and it was likely something that would need addressing before we were all hip deep in rubbish.
As much as I tried I couldn’t discern any movement or sign of the watcher on the island to the north of us and I wasn’t sure if that meant that they had grown bored, complacent or thought they knew everything they needed to.
Yet another mental note was made to speak to Lily about them, perhaps I would suggest that I could go across and visit them. Confirm whether they would be a threat and deal with them.
Tomorrow though, that would be fine. Tonight I would enjoy the first meal in a reasonably long time that would have some flavour and perhaps spend a little time in the company of Lily and the people who it seemed had become my friends, a fact that caused an almost endless amount of surprise to me.
I walked back towards the apartments, shoulders hunched against the cold and the light rain. I determined to get over my dislike of Jason and speak with him about an idea I had for making fireplaces in the apartments and whether or not he could make them work so that we could have some proper warmth.
Light and laughter washed over me as I walked through the doors and for once I didn’t have the urge to run from it. I still didn’t feel entirely included but I no longer felt that I wasn’t welcome. It was an interesting feeling.
Emma ran to greet me and led me by the hand to sit on the stairs beside her and Maggie where she excitedly told me about the games they had been playing with the stuffed animals I had found for them. I listened attentively and nodded politely when they asked if I were watching as they showed me the dance they had been practicing.
Lily smiled and then laughed at me from across the room as she watched me desperately try to fend off the attempts of the giggling girls to pull me up to join in the dancing. Her laughter raised a smile from me and not the usual cold anger.
“Look at me... Are you watching... Oh.” Emma broke off as the first bullet hit her small frame.
A thunderous roar seemed to fill the room as more bullets tore through the front doors of the building. The glass panes set into them shattered and covered the floor with a thousand sparkling shards and the laughter turned to screams of pain and terror.
I pulled the two screaming children away from stairs and unceremoniously dropped them behind one of the couches before following them to land on the floor with the wind knocked from my lungs.
The air was filled with tufts of cotton and slivers of wood as they were expelled violently from the couch cushions and stairs by the bullets striking them.
A burst of plaster beside my head forced me to duck closer to the floor with the girls as I realised that the couch was a poor barrier to bullets.
It was the first time I had ever been caught beneath such a barrage and I was unprepared for the sheer ferocity of the assault.
After an eternity that was likely less than a minute, the gunfire stopped and all I could hear were the hysterical screams of pain and distress. Someone was calling the name of what I guessed to be their loved one, panic in their voice.
I gestured for the girls to stay where they were though I doubted that they were even aware of me through the shock. A dark stain was spreading across the back of Emma’s t-shirt and I knew that time was short.
“Stay the fuck where you are.” A cocky voice managed to be heard above the screams. “Any one of you moves and we’ll fire again.”
“Why did you do this?” someone called back, perhaps Claire or Julie, I couldn’t really tell and it likely didn’t matter as a burst of gunfire ripped across the room and whoever spoke was silenced.
“No one talk either.” A different voice said which was followed immediately by laughter from the doorway. I risked a glance over the back of the couch.
No more than three men stood in the doorway, dressed in army fatigues though seemingly devoid of any badges or insignia.
They carried semi-automatic rifles, sleek black metal frames with a forward mounted pistol grip in front of the magazine and a slotted flash suppressor at the end of the barrel. I recalled seeing the soldiers, way back when I had been briefly in the refugee centre and protected by the British army, carrying the same weapons.
Combat boots, body armour and a helmet that covered the top, back and sides of the head completed their gear.
They stood in a V formation with what looked to be their leader at the head of the V, his weapon held casually at his side. A dark beard of thick hair covered his face giving him a slovenly appearance that seemed to fit with the stains on his uniform.
Behind him and to the left was a young man with an overly large nose, light stubble and dark shades, he was still sniggering to himself and had his rifle pointed towards the bulk of our group.
The remaining soldier was another unshaven young man with dark skin and a serious expression. He also held his rifle aimed towards the crowd but was hungrily looking around the room, either at the people or our belongings I couldn’t be sure.
“Right then.” The leader said, “You have two choices now. You give us what we want.” He paused and looked directly at someone in the crowd, “Or we kill you all. What will it be?”
“What do you want?” Lily asked after a nervous silence as the soldiers watched the group. Relief rushed through me as she spoke and affirmed for me that she was alive.
“Supplies. Food, water, medical gear.” The leader said. “We’ll take what you have now and then anything else you find you will give us the first choice of. Clear?”
“You can’t take it, we need it.” Lily said and the leader raised his hand to stop the shades wearing soldier from shooting as he swung his gun towards her.
“Now, now Ed. No need to shoot more of them, I think they understand how serious we are.” Leader said with a quiet authority before turning back to Lily. “Way I see it miss, you can refuse to give it up to us and die or give it up and have the chance of finding more and surviving longer.”
“Make your mind up quick love and you might have the chance to help your wounded.” Ed said with a slimy grin.
“Fine.” Lily snapped back at him, “Take it all and damn you for it.”
“World’s already damned miss, you should realise that.” The leader said before turning and saying something quietly to the dark skinned man who turned to the open doorway and whistled overly loudly.
Three more men came into the room, each carrying a large holdall and I ducked back below the couch as they began to gather our belongings.
In just the short time since the deserters had entered the building the dark stain on Emma’s' shirt had grown and blood was slowly pooling beneath her. She looked at me, eyes wide with fright and whimpered.
I lifted her shirt carefully and inspected the wound as best I could. A puckered cavity was almost dead centre of her lower back with blood running freely from the wound. I pulled free my knife from its sheath and cut some cloth from my shirt that I hoped would be free of anything too nasty as it had been protected by my jacket.
Once I had the cloth wadded up and pressed against the wound I did my best to check Maggie who by some stroke of luck seemed to be free of any real injury other than shock. She lay on the floor unmoving and unresponsive other than to squirm away from my touch.
“We got everything?” The leader asked loudly from the door and one of his men grunted assent, I glanced over the top of the couch again.
“What about... you know?” Ed said with a suggestive leer at the women.
“Next time.” The leader said firmly, “You’ll have to make do with the ones we have at camp for now.”
Ed looked annoyed but agreed with the leader of his little band of cutthroats and followed the others out of the door but not without one last look of desire at the women and before I knew it my knife was in my hand as his gaze lingered on Lily.
Her eyes sought and met mine and she shook her head as though she knew what I was thinking. Pain and frustration filled her gaze and I had to look away.
Chapter 22
Claire was dead. Her once bubbly personality was no more though her daughter Maggie didn’t seem aware of suddenly being an orphan.
She wasn’t the only one who had died either. In total four of our group were dead and another three were wounded which meant that they were likely going to die since we no longer had even the basic medical supplies we had had an hour before.
I sat in one of the bedrooms of an apartment on the ground floor, the closest one for us to bring the wounded into when Lily had focused the people and got them moving. I didn’t know who had been sleeping in the bedroom but considering the number of lives we had just lost, we would have plenty of room anyway.
Claire was dead. I remembered meeting her back in my home town; I had been distracting the zombies so Lily could rescue Claire and her daughter from the car they were trapped in. She had some odd worries about Cass being infectious so I hadn’t spent as much time with her since the golf club but she had been nice to me. She was one of the first friends I had made during the end of the world.
I didn’t know the names of most of the dead, only Claire. The others weren’t familiar to me and that pleased me. I had so few friends that to lose more of them would have been irritating.
It didn’t seem like that was the right word but my mind would shy away from admitting to anything stronger than irritation. Claire was dead, my friend was dead and a child I had chosen to be responsible for was dying.
She lay on the bed beside me and whimpered in pain. Her tears were perhaps in some part due to the knowledge that she was dying.
From what I could tell the bullet had bounced off of her spine and torn through some of her more vital organs before lodging in her intestines. That was a guess, I couldn’t tell more without opening her up and I couldn’t do that until she died. I could only hope that was soon.
“You ok in here?” Pat asked softly, his eyes full of tears and sorrow as he looked at the little girl lying so broken beside me.
“I am fine.” I said, so formal and divorced from emotion. “Your arm?” I asked and he glanced down at the rough linen wrapped around his upper arm.
“It’s nothing, bullet went through.”
“Ok.” Was all I could say, no emotion, no feeling, nothing given away.
He soon retreated from the room when I lapsed back into an awkward silence. What could I say? He would like get an infection and die from the wound with no medicine, no antibiotics. Another friend lost.
Emma was weeping, a thousand little tears for a life she would never get to live. I reached across and pushed the limp strands of hair away from her face and felt the cold clammy skin of her cheek.
She pulled her soft toy close to her chest and wailed as a fresh wave of pain struck her and not for the first time I so very much wished I could provide her comfort, take away her pain and ease her sorrow like the plush toy cat.
“How is she?” Lily asked as she entered the room and crossed to stand beside me.
“She’s dying.”I said, cold and detached.
“Oh the poor child.” She said with such emotion that I looked at her in wonder.
She wore her sorrow openly, her eyes red rimmed, cheeks stained with the tracks of her tears. She wept for all of our dead and more so for the children. I couldn’t understand how she could cope with so much raw feeling.
“Her legs don’t work.” I said to fill the awkward silence.
“I know.” Lily said and touched me briefly on the shoulder before bending over the bed and stroking Emma’s cold, clammy face.
“The bullet damaged her spine. I doubt she feels much in her legs.” I continued, attempting to explain clinically what was killing the child. “If she did then the pain would be worse.”
“I know Ryan.”
“This is my fault.” I said without thinking. Why would I do such a thing? I had never confessed to anything before.
“No, it wasn’t.” Lily said, “It was those men.”
“I knew they were there...”
“We all did, we didn’t think they would do this.”
“They were watching.” I said. Hate me Lily, feel disgust or anger or anything other than the sorrow that I can’t ever understand or share.
“Yes they probably were.” Lily agreed as she stood once more.
“I should have killed them all days ago.” I said, barely a whisper.
“It isn’t your fault.” Lily insisted as she reached up with her hands and turned my face towards her. “You are just grieving. It’s ok to feel.”
“No.” Stubborn cold bastard, “No it’s not.”
“Oh Ryan,” She said as she leaned forward and pressed her head against mine, foreheads touching. I could feel her tremble as the tears came.
We stayed that way for several long seconds and I wondered what she was gaining from being in such an uncomfortable position. A renewed cry came from Emma and Lily stood once more, wiping at her eyes.
“I need to check on the others. I’ll be back soon.” Lily said.
The child was dying, slowly. Judging from the faint aroma coming from the wound, her bowel had been damaged by the bullets passage. The faecal matter was likely leaking into her abdomen and poisoning her. It would take a fully staffed emergency room and a great deal of spare blood and medicine to even have a chance of saving her.
Even if she did survive after being treated by the expert trauma team she would probably never walk again. Her spine was damaged and her legs hung limp when I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
I was responsible for the child’s welfare. I had saved her at the petrol station all
those many weeks ago. I was the one who had brought her along, provided for her, protected her... until I couldn’t.
My friend was dead, a child I... cared for was dying and my friends had been attacked and hurt. I couldn’t weep for them as Lily would, I couldn’t fix the child’s wounds and I couldn’t sit and wait for her to die in pain over hours or days.
What I could do was allow my rage free rein. I could avenge them and punish those responsible. I could put aside the foolishness of friends and caring for others as a weakness that I could not afford. I could be the person I was supposed to be, the one who brought fear, who cared for no one. The killer.
I wiped clean my knife on the beds covers and waited as Emma slowly and as peacefully as she could in her current state, died from the blood loss from the severed femoral artery in her upper thigh.
The best I could do was to give her a peaceful death, to end her suffering and to vent all my anger and pain on the men who had killed her.
I pulled the blanket over her, careful not to disturb the soft toy that still lay in her arms and left the room without looking back.
Chapter 23
Only a few candles remained lit as I left the apartment and joined the few people still sitting in shocked states in the foyer. Someone had taken the time to cover over the damaged doors with tarpaulin which did little to keep out the evening chill. Lily saw me leave the room and rushed over.
“What’s happened? Is Emma...” she asked, fresh tears forming.
“She’s dead.” I said simply, devoid of emotion and refusing to reveal the vast swirling sea of rage that seemed to fill me.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry...” Lily began.
“Why’s your knife out?” Matthew asked. He was sitting on a couch beside the door, his eyes on the knife in my hand as he pulled himself out of his seat. “What did you do?”
“What was necessary.” I said.
“Ryan!” Lily gasped her eyes widening.
“You fucking psycho...” Matthew snarled as he stepped forward towards me.
Killing the Dead (Books 4-6) Page 13
